


Almost Blue

by yours_eternally



Series: AUgust 2020 Prompts [23]
Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Demon Deals, Demon Summoning, M/M, Rimming, Ritual Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26081446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yours_eternally/pseuds/yours_eternally
Summary: ‘You are the new master?’ he asks, voice rasping.‘Yes,’ Ricky says. His voice sounds thin and high in comparison and he swallows, trying to clear his heart from his throat. He forces himself to move closer. ‘You can call me Ricky, wh-what’s your name?’‘Chris,’ says the creature, moving closer as well. His eyes have dropped from Ricky to the dead thing on the floor.‘Chris?’he repeats, incredulous.‘What were you expecting, Ricky?’ Chris says, mouth curving in a sharp smile.A desperate Ricky performs an equally desperate ritual, and gets something a little more Chris-shaped than he's expecting.
Relationships: Chris "Motionless" Cerulli/Ricky "Horror" Olson
Series: AUgust 2020 Prompts [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859290
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16
Collections: AUgust 2020





	Almost Blue

Ricky waits. His fingertips are tingling as the blood dries on them. _It has to be enough_. For a moment there is only silence. His offering is lying still, quieted now, on the dusty floorboards. Ricky congratulates himself for his choice of location; a derelict farmhouse. Where there are no neighbours to spot the black candles he has set up and lit as instructed. 

He takes a step closer to the chalk circle as the northernmost candle flickers. He doesn’t allow himself to look at the limp shape on the floor, blood congealing in his curly hair. He hadn’t known how much a person could scream. 

All the candles are flickering now and the atmosphere in the room seems to have changed, growing heavier and heavier — like the air pressure dropping before a storm breaks. Ricky can feel his pulse throbbing as the pressure grows and grows until there’s a shift, leaving Ricky reeling with his ears popping. 

And now there’s another man in the room. Well… not a man, of course. 

Ricky stares at the creature. He’s not sure what he’d been expecting but this wasn’t it. He’s tall and long-limbed. Tattooed and studded but there are no horns in sight. The only indication of what he is is the slight redness to his eyes but that’s already fading. When the creature levels his eyes on Ricky’s face they are purest black. 

‘You are the new master?’ he asks, voice rasping.

‘Yes,’ Ricky says. His voice sounds thin and high in comparison and he swallows, trying to clear his heart from his throat. He forces himself to move closer. ‘You can call me Ricky, wh-what’s your name?’ 

‘Chris,’ says the creature, moving closer as well. His eyes have dropped from Ricky to the dead thing on the floor. 

‘ _Chris?_ ’ he repeats, incredulous. 

‘What were you expecting, Ricky?’ Chris says, mouth curving in a sharp smile. His teeth haven’t quite evened out into human teeth yet, many of them still too long and still too sharp. But his voice has changed, roughness gone and his accent has smoothed into an imperfect copy of Ricky’s own. 

As Ricky watches, bile rising in his throat, as the creature — Chris — bends to the offering, mouth pressing to the wound on his throat. Ricky can hear the wet sounds of him drinking. His stomach burns. 

‘You accept, then?’ he asks when Chris raises his head. 

‘I do,’ Chris says, standing smoothly. There’s blood smudged on his mouth and it takes all of Ricky’s resolve to stay in place as Chris approaches him. ‘I will complete the ritual now.’ 

He takes Ricky’s hands one at a time cleaning the blood from them with a rough tongue. 

Ricky nods, unable to speak. In the translation he had read it had said that the ritual was completed with _consummation_. Ricky hopes very much that this was symbolic rather than literal consummation. But Chris is drawing him back towards the circle and Ricky has to dodge the circle of blood, forcing himself to look away from the sightless eyes. 

‘Face to the North and kneel,’ Chris instructs and Ricky does. He’s facing away from Chris now but can still hear the floor creak as he kneels behind him. His hands move to Ricky’s body, pulling at his clothes, obviously unfamiliar with the fastenings. So Ricky helps him with shaking hands until his jeans and underwear are pushed down around his thighs. 

Ricky yelps in spite of himself when he feels a burning fingertip stroke between his cheeks, brushing his hole. Chris huffs out a rasping laugh then pushes on his shoulder so he’ll bend forward. Ricky half expects for him to enter him dry but he’s even more shocked to feel a wet tongue swipe over his skin. He gasps, feeling a curl of heat through his gut despite the circumstances. 

Chris licks him again, tongue pressing against hole, making him gasp more as his cock throbs between his legs. Chris explores him thoroughly, a low rumbling in his chest suggesting he’s enjoying himself. Ricky digs his chipped nails in the boards beneath his hands. He’s flushed and oversensitive, his thoughts are moving sluggishly through his brain; Chris’ reddish eyes, a spurt of arterial spray, his own pale face in the rear view mirror as he pulls up outside the abandoned house. 

Chris pulls back from him and Ricky tries to get his eyes back in focus. Chris is reaching for him again now, pulling his hips back with a hot hand on his stomach as the other guides his cock into Ricky’s body. Ricky whines softly. He doesn’t resist but he feels pulled taut. Chris’ skin feels strange, burning hot like he has a fever and Ricky can feel a shard of discomfort. He bites his lip. 

Chris stills, hips fitted close against Ricky’s, and Ricky feels the pressure lesson a little. Chris makes another sound low in his chest. He bends over Ricky and Ricky can feel him mouthing the back of his neck. His teeth feel sharper than is natural but Ricky’s beyond caring. He starts to move and Ricky gasps, pressing back into him. Chris rumbles again. His thrusts are becoming rougher and more forceful, pressing so hard Ricky barely keep himself up on his elbows. It’s a relief when Chris pulls him back to sit in lap, thighs spread wide over Chris', so he can thrust up into him. 

Ricky lets his head fall back against his chest and Chris fits his head into the space between Ricky’s neck and shoulders. Chris’ hand finds his cock and Ricky whines as he starts to stroke him. The sensation is almost too much and Ricky’s writhing so much Chris is struggling to keep a hold of him. Chris mumbles against his hair and Ricky feels his gut twist sharply as he comes. Chris growls softly and Ricky blurrily realises he’s pleased. 

Chris is moving again, his thrusts rough, one arm across Ricky’s chest and the other holding Ricky’s hip. Ricky can feel Chris’ mouth on his neck. He feels his teeth prick his skin. Then Chris goes rigid underneath him with a low growl as his mouth clamps closed, teeth sinking into Ricky’s flesh. 

Ricky screams. He’s not sure if it’s from pain or from relief. Chris’ rough tongue laps over his skin again, taking the sting from the wound. 

He withdraws from Ricky’s body pushing him off him, back onto his knees. Ricky stands quickly, pulling his jeans up, ignoring what he can feel dripping down his thigh. When Ricky turns Chris is dressed too. He’s moved away from Ricky to touch the offering again. 

‘Pretty,’ he says, fingertips tracing pale lips.

‘Don’t,’ Ricky grits out. He can’t look at it. At him. Now the immediacy of the blood, and the ritual, and the sex has abated, reality is starting to creep in bringing a unexpectedly soothing numbness. He has nothing left now. Nothing but his vengeance. 

‘You must have loved him deeply— I haven’t been summoned in a century,’ Chris comments lightly, eyes on Ricky. 

‘I did,’ says Ricky, not looking at him, moving to retrieve the shovel from amongst his things. He hands it to Chris with muttered instructions to go outside and dig a grave, to dig it deep. 

As soon as he’s clattered out of the room Ricky sinks to his knees. He reaches out a shaking hand to smooth his damp curling hair for the last time.

**Author's Note:**

> This brings the total number of people straight-up murdered in this series to five. No comment on the fact Ricky is the murderer 4 out 5 times 😅
> 
> [xyours-eternallyx](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/xyours-eternallyx) on tumblr 🙌


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